


Lullaby for the Damned

by orphan_account



Category: Doctor Who
Genre: Blood, Bondage, M/M, Sadism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-28
Updated: 2018-10-28
Packaged: 2019-08-08 19:54:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,145
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16435796
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Koschei shows Theta why is he the Master.





	Lullaby for the Damned

**Author's Note:**

> Read at your own discretion. This contains some VERY dubious consent.

“Say it,” Koschei hisses. He is waiting, watching, wanting. There is nothing he craves more than to hear one word on Theta’s lips, and boy, he shudders to think of the way it will roll off his tongue and collapse into a heap of beauty and exquisiteness.

“Master,” Theta whimpers. There it is, the word, the one Koschei has chosen for himself and has been desperate to hear since that very moment he chose it. He bubbles with a satisfaction like no other, absolutely thrilled to finally have ‘Master’ attached to him.

“Doesn’t it feel good?” Koschei smiles, feeling the wickedness in the curl of his lips. Master, the word meaning ruler of all--from the night sky to darling little Theta. He can own it all now, even the boy he is so desperately in love with.

“I don’t know,” Theta begins, his words trailing off with a thump to the highest point of his cheekbone. The sting leaves him shuddering, and he ponders how he is ever going to hide the already blossoming bruise. He realises the word he has forgotten, and he adds it to the end of his breath. “Master…”

“There we go,” Koschei throws his head back, a chesty laugh exploding from his smile. “That wasn’t so hard, now, was it?” He leans forward, coming in close until he is inches away from Theta’s face. He takes a moment to digest his features--the wide brown eyes, the crease of his brow, the jutting of his sweet bottom lip that is dying for a kiss or hit--Koschei not sure which he should deliver. “Ruler of all. That’s what I’m going to be, and you can be there beside me, or at my feet. So, which is it that you would like, hmm?”

Theta remains silent, held tight like the strings of a violin. He receives another hit, and he whimpers like a lost Earth puppy. “I don’t know, Master.” Another hit. “I’m sorry,” He says, fumbling for more words. As he grapples, his attention scatters, and fear sits in his throat. For a short statured Time Academy student, and his boyfriend no less, Koschei sure does terrify him. He is not sure whether or not he likes it, but he settles further into the chair for what he is going to receive. Nothing except being with Koschei matters right now, and perhaps that will never change.

“So, Theta, you and me, eh? We have a whole universe to see, whole planets to burn. Think of that for me, won’t you dear?” The fantasy of ownership enriches Koschei, and he feels himself slipping into the sensation. He swoons at the idea, and he sighs from the thought of standing tall in chancellery meetings as Lord President--or perhaps even something more than that? King of the universe, maybe?

“Are you telling me we will be the homemakers of genocide?” Theta raises his brow, his taught skin stinging. “I’m not quite sure that’s what I want.”

Koschei grips Theta’s throat, scrunching his mouth and looking into those big brown eyes. If he wanted to, he could hypnotise Theta into doing anything he wanted, there and then. He is moments away from doing it, but he decides compliance so early would not bring much enjoyment. “Is that so? So you don’t want to rule with me then, fine. You will just have to sit beneath me then as I become leader of this universe. You’d like that, now, wouldn’t you?” No comment. “Maybe I’ll just have to knock some sense into you.”

“I’d like to see you try,” Theta says, voice raspy from the hand on his throat. He resists the force, the pressure, the pain seething on his neck. He pushes forward, the waves of his lips crashing against the shore of Koschei’s. Their teeth collide, and it is all a hot mess, but neither party cares. Saliva dribbles down their chins, Theta’s lips parted and his mouth waiting for the caress of Koschei’s silken tongue.

“Let me have my way with you, baby,” Koschei mumbles, lips still clinging to Theta’s. His hands fumble to grab the Prydon red robes that adorn Theta, and he grips them with a degree of awkwardness, not quite knowing what to do. He feels Theta nod, tongue gliding over his own. “But you’ve gotta trust me and let me do anything I want, okay?”

Theta pulls away, peering through heavy lashes and lids, searching for all the seriousness he can grasp from Koschei’s eyes. “Koschei,” He freezes, the only movement he provides is the rise and fall of his shoulders with every laboured breath. “Do you want to hurt me?”

“Oh, my sweet boy,” Koschei smirks, bringing his lips to Theta’s curl covered ear. “That’s not all I want.”

Silence. The tension is suffocating, sickness swirling in the air and their stomachs.

“Then what do you want?”

Now, the silence is truly suffocating. Theta swears he cannot breathe, and his surroundings start to spin. His head is light, feet heavy and sinking through the floor even though he is sitting firm in a chair. He can feel Koschei’s warm breath on his ear, blowing the little tufts of blonde out of the way, and he swallows the lump in his throat.

“You.”

That word, that single, teensy word, sets Theta alight. “Hold me. Hurt me. Make me know why you want to call yourself Master.” He shudders, not sure if he is terrified or excited beyond belief. “Please, I need you.”

“How sweet,” Koschei smiles. “Those are the three little words any girl wants to hear, aren’t they? How lucky am I to own each of them.” He grabs a fistful of hair, pulling Theta’s head back. He leaves nips on his jaw, pushing past the high collar of his robes and licking a line from neck to ear. Whilst working away he averts his eyes to the clock, realising it only early into the night, giving him hours to toy with his Theta.

Theta melts into a puddle, quicksilver under the heat of Koschei’s touch. He moans, quickly silenced with a hit to the cheek again, and the realisation of how he is going to be treated floods him. There is no turning back, especially as Koschei spins on his heel and rummages through the chest of drawers beside his bed.

“Now, darling,” Koschei leans over Theta, one hand on the back of his chair. “It is past curfew, so that means you stay silent, okay?” He hisses, like poison is bubbling and steaming on his tongue. Theta nods, and from the depth of his own pocket, Koschei retrieves a loop of rope. With quick manoeuvring, he ties Theta’s hands to the back of the chair, tugging on the rope to test its durability.

“Just don’t kill me,” Theta says, Koschei not sure if it is serious or a joke.

“You’re no use to me dead,” Koschei puts his hands on either side of Theta’s face, hiding a laugh from how adorable the squish is. He determines it imperative to focus on the seriousness of the situation, and to get back to what he was doing.

“But you think I’m cute though,”

Damn it. Theta ruining the moment.

“Careful, or I’ll gag you before any of the fun can start.” Koschei ruffles Theta’s hair, giving him one last moment of softness, before giving him another sharp blow to the face. “I wonder what would happen if I split your lip, hmm? What would our dearest friends ask, and more importantly, what would you tell them? You wouldn't _dare_ tell them your boyfriend hits you.” He ran the pad of his thumb across Theta’s lip which was swollen from kissing, contemplating the elevated blood flow that would spill if the skin broke. “A shame you can’t answer me, we could have lots of fun!”

Koschei turns, stepping towards the door. He slides the lock, realising that it was probably a good idea. He is not too keen on anyone walking in on him fucking up Theta, especially as curfew is approaching. “Primitive locks, these,” Koschei smiles. “Good thing students are banned from sonics.” Theta just sits there, staring, silent. Koschei almost considers commending him on his silence, but no, he cannot give Theta what he wants. That could never possibly go well.

Koschei goes back to his drawer of goods, humming about whatever he could use next. He decides a collar to be best, and from his selection, he chooses a thick leather one that was crafted certainly not on Gallifrey, let alone in the same galaxy. With precision, Koschei tightens it around Theta’s throat, making sure it will hurt his Adam’s apple if he dares speak. “Good pet,” He coos. He goes to run his nails down Theta’s arm, but the sleeves of his thick academy robes get in the way.

“Damn it,” He chuckles. “Forgot to take your clothes off you before tying you up.” He puts a thumb in Theta’s mouth, feeling the sharpness of his teeth and bringing his face in close. “Maybe I’ll just have to cut them off.”

“Koschei, these were expensive, and my House will kill me if you--” Theta is cut off by a hit, and he crumbles. His face is now aching, even when he does not move it. He is careful not to grimace too much, knowing it will only earn him worse things. Instead, he remains perfectly still, all senses heightened.

Koschei leans down, pair of scissors in hand, and cuts the hem of Theta’s robes. He feels lucky, almost proud, to not receive a reply, satisfied that Theta knows of what would come to him. He leans in, giving Theta a deep, one sided kiss. There is no tenderness in this kiss, only coldness and something stone like.

“You get one more look at me before I blindfold you.” Koschei drinks in the look from those wide eyes, bathing in the submission that is ebbing and flowing from Theta. He knows he is scared, and with a blindfold over his eyes, he is sure that fear will only heighten. It sends a rich shiver down his spine, only making him more desperate to inflict delectable pain.

As soon as the blindfold is secured, Koschei can almost _feel_ the hairs that cover Theta’s body stand on end. He gets a chill, a delightful one that leaves him roaring and ready to do what he wants. He starts to undo Theta’s robe, golden button by golden button, ever so slowly. He pushes it past his shoulders, revealing a red tunic and matching trousers. He readies the scissors, snipping the sleeves off and letting it all drop to the floor. Theta winces, undoubtedly thinking of the amount of trouble he will be in. Alas, he knows he must do whatever he can for Koschei--well, his Master.

It does not take long for Theta to be sitting there, shirtless, and anxious. The air conditioning unit cools his skin, counteracting the sweat he is breaking into. He shudders as his chest is poked and prodded with the scissors in Koschei’s hand, and he bites down hard on his lip to stop any threat of sound from escaping. Surely, the scissors cannot be sharp enough to pierce his flesh, can they? He has no idea, and as the blade digs deeper, he realises that he does not in fact want to learn.

Koschei drags the scissors down further, dragging them across Theta’s thigh that is lost under his trousers. He digs the blades in, snipping the fabric away until he is sitting in only his underwear. He cannot quite decide whether to be impressed or not at the fact that Theta is not hard, feeling almost insulted that he is not doing a good enough job. Instead, he pulls away, thinking of whatever he could do next.

There is one thing that Koschei gets the idea to do, however it is tedious, and he is wobbling on the line between whether or not he should do it. He pulls a vial from the drawer, scrunching his face as he stands and contemplates. Surely, it cannot be a good idea, but the satisfaction from its results call out to him, begging him to do it.

With false courage, Koschei comes toward Theta. He uncaps the petite bottle, giving it a quick whiff before confirming with himself that he truly wants to do this. He knows Theta will not be a fan, but that does not matter. So long as he is happy and fine, nothing else matters. He grabs Theta’s jaw, pulling his mouth open, slowly but surely spilling the liquid into his mouth.

“What was that?” Theta says, panicked. He tugs at his bounds, pulling his wrists from each other and kicking about.

“Hush now, trust in your Master,” Koschei begins to count, waiting for the effects to kick in. He notices Theta freeze up and go to open his mouth, but no words can fall. He leans in, kissing Theta’s lax lips, exchanging their warm breaths.

Morality seems a foreign concept to Koschei as he pulls the scissors back out, making Theta watch as he licks the blade. His tongue curls around it, saliva a thin sheet that keeps it separate from the metal. Theta’s disgust is clear, despite the fact that he is paralysed.

After his little make out session with the scissors, Koschei throws the things behind him--ignoring as they hit the wall and surely leave a mark. He tosses up the option between getting sexual then and there or seeing if he could drag the situation on further. He chooses the latter, untying Theta and making a feeble attempt at dragging him to the bed by the collar, cursing his short stature in comparison to his gangly boyfriend.

He pushes Theta over the edge of the bed, tugging down his underwear and keeping his arms firm behind his back. He retrieves the rope again, tying Theta’s wrists so tightly that he is confident it will leave a mark--a matching set with the bruises on his face. Maybe that split lip could tie the look together?

Koschei leans over Theta, one hand caressing the small of his back and the other pulling his hair. He breathes in, deep and to his core, basking in the sensation of overpowering Theta, and feeling heaven sent from his very presence. He drinks in every last bit of it, completely losing himself in the delightful sensory overload--the cool room, sight of wincing Theta, his honey-like aroma.

There is precious time taken in Koschei’s mind to contemplate Theta’s current paralysis, and how despite his inability to move, he can still feel. He nibbles on Theta’s ear, waiting for that jolt which will never come, and the hand on his back slithers down to his arse. He grabs a handful, his touch playful but also showcasing how he is in control.

No warning is given as Koschei gives a hard hit to Theta’s bare arse, ecstasy and warmth buzzing around his body from the thrill of his burning hand. He gives another hit, this one harder, leaning back to observe the blossoming pink. He continues this motion another eight times, smiling like a lunatic by the end of it. The power over pain feels _great,_ even better than it has the past few times he has spanked Theta.

Koschei slinks his hand into the drawer beside him, shuffling around until he finds what he needs. For a moment he stays there, staring at the implement in his hand, fantasising about the glorious welts it will leave on Theta’s arse. As he makes flesh and wood meet, the sound sends him throwing his head back and cackling, doing it again and again until splotches of purple begin to appear. He _craves_ Theta’s whimpers, but he knows they will never come, not under the influence of the drug.

Something of regret churns away in his mind, and he begins to toss up whether or not drugging Theta has been, or will be, worth it. Maybe having him twisting and turning, moaning and groaning, is the better way to go, but then he remembers compliance that is now coming in handy. Oh, precious compliance. The name ‘Master’ would not suit him if people were reluctant to follow his commands or be there at his feet. The fact that Theta is there, frozen, unable to react, sends shivers down his spine and fuels his hand into action.

Spank after spank, from arse to the back of his thighs, inside Theta’s mind he is crying. It hurts, a pain that he wishes could become obvious, but as he feels his arse and thighs sting with warmth, he knows all too well that Koschei is enjoying it. He hates how desperate he is for it to stop, and even more than that, he hates how much he _knows_ it will not stop. When he thinks it over, he begins to feel a sharp pain, followed by something trickling down his thighs. His desire to cry out is now overwhelming, but no matter how hard he tries, he cannot.

“I told you,” Koschei says, moving around to mumble in Theta’s ear. “I will make you learn why my name will be the Master. And look at you, unable to complain. I am the Master, and you are obeying me--before I’ve even gotten my cock in you.”

Koschei strips from his robes, tossing them to the other side of the room. He pulls Theta away from the bed, not caring about the blood that will surely be spilling all over the floor, and he sits on the edge of the bed. “I’m not even hard yet,” He gloats, caressing Theta’s lax cheek. There is a look of pain in his empty eyes, and it is truly a masterpiece. There Theta is, all Koschei’s, no one else’s--bruised, battered, all ready for him. That is nearly enough to throw him into arousal, but he holds back, desperate to not give Theta the satisfaction of knowing how much he turns Koschei on.

“So, do you know what you have to do?” Koschei pushes his thumb past Theta’s lips, past his teeth, and pulls down until his lazy mouth is hanging open. “Show me that your mouth can make me hard, even if you’re not putting in any effort.” He shuffles forward, carefully and surely, pushing his cock between Theta’s lips. He thrusts, laughing as tears well up in Theta’s eyes. The paralysis inhibits his gag reflex, but of course his body still recognises something there.

Koschei thrusts and thrusts, not especially impressed by the sensation, but it is the look in Theta’s big brown, teary eyes that send him into physical arousal. It is a splendid sight, the boy he loves and wants to control, helpless with cock in his mouth. His cheeks turn pink as he feels himself get hard, and he can feel the satisfaction ooze off Theta. To counteract this, he smacks him in the face, only darkening the bruises on his cheek. He pulls out and decides that split lip would be great right about now.

He gives Theta an uppercut to the jaw, followed by a blow to the lips, and blood starts flowing. Feeling terribly tyrannical, Koschei leans in and kisses Theta, lapping up the blood that is spilling. The metallic, salty taste sends adrenaline coursing through his veins, and he knows that he is disgusting Theta. That does not matter though, not now.

Once he has had his fill, Koschei decides it time to get down to business. He gets up, pushing Theta back over the side of the bed, and observes his arse. The blood has clotted, dark, little, crusted flakes clinging to the slices. Still checking the damage, Koschei sucks on his index finger and begins teasing Theta’s arse with it.

He caresses the outer ring of muscle, feeling it relaxed under the drug, but he is not ready to penetrate him yet. He pushes a little forward, but then withdraws. He instead goes to use his tongue, making great strokes with it. He traces Theta’s arsehole, gently flicking the tip of his tongue against its pucker He slowly pushes it in, licking around and jolting at the clean taste. He tastes good--fresh and oh so familiar.

Koschei deliberately makes an attempt to make the touch good, but he almost tries a little too hard. He holds back, pressing his tongue in just enough that he knows if Theta could move, he would be arching his back and moaning like a whore. When he is satisfied, he licks his forefinger again and slowly but surely presses it into his arse. Theta is so warm and welcoming, and as Koschei adds a second finger, the feeling only increases.

In and out go Koschei’s fingers, their pace and force lazy, going over and over and over again. He reaches back to his drawer, still fingering Theta’s arse, and pulls out a wand vibrator that was most certainly not stolen. He presses it to the tip of Theta’s cock, turning it on and feeling the hum. He knows that Theta will melt, and he anticipates a quick orgasm--despite him now clearly saying, “Don’t you dare come until I say.” He knows he has set up an impossible task, especially since Theta lacks control of his body.

Koschei goes back down, impressed at his own ability to multitask, exchanging fingers for tongue as he still holds the vibrator there. He teases and teases, knowing that Theta could come any second now. He brushes against Theta’s cuts, knowing that the pain mixed with pleasure will only make the sensations increase.

He stops dead in his tracks as he feels something viscous and hot spill down his hand. Disappointment and fulfillment bubble within him, and he grabs Theta by the collar and pulls him backwards. “Didn’t I tell you not to come?” He can almost feel Theta freeze up, and he bursts into laughter. “Pathetic, you are. How am I meant to rule the universe if my partner is so weak?”

Koschei reaches for a bottle of lube and coats his cock, still mocking Theta. “You deserve all the battering I’ve given you. You’re meant to be a good boy, only coming when I say. Such a shame, maybe I’m just going to have to fuck your disobedience out of you.” And with that, he plunges himself into Theta’s arse. He does not care that it most certainly hurts, and instead he fucks him hard and fast, laughing like a maniac.

Madness is flowing through Koschei’s veins, and he has never felt more power in his hands as he does now--balls deep in bloody and beaten Theta. He grasps his hips, careful to make sure his nails are digging into his sides. He thrusts deeply, like he is never going to fuck anything ever again. There is only reckless abandon, and he loves it.

Koschei gives no warning as he comes, filling Theta’s tight arse. He takes no time in pulling out, taking immense pride in watching his shimmery come spill out of Theta. “And that,” He says, “is why I am the Master.” He swivels Theta around by the collar, locking their eyes. “Understood?” He knows Theta cannot answer, but he says it anyway.

He gives Theta something to counteract the paralysis drug, and it comes into effect in only a matter of seconds. Theta is groaning and sore when he comes to, and it makes Koschei glad.

“I’m yours,” Theta puffs, trying to shift his body from its awkward position. “Completely and utterly.” He is still bound, but he truly cannot be bothered asking to be let loose

“Good to know,” Koschei laughs, kissing Theta. His mood drops, and he instead goes in to treat his Theta tenderly--with only a hint of his sadism lingering. “Now you be careful, your body still isn’t fully recovered so you may be a bit rusty.”

“For Rassilon’s sake,” Theta laughs through groans, “You’ve really beaten me up.”

“Wasn’t that the aim?”

Theta slowly makes his way up and to a mirror, surveying the image. He takes in the view of his bruised and bloody arse, his bruised face, and his split lip that is going to kill for days. “What do we tell our friends?”

Koschei slinks over to Theta, standing behind him and wrapping his arms around his waist. He brings him in close, warm breath sending a shiver down his spine. “That you fell down a staircase? Upset someone in Low Town? I don’t know.” He goes on his tiptoes and kisses the nape of his neck, comfortable and at peace. “I love you.”

“I love you too, _Master_.”


End file.
